


Meet Luciano (OC Pyro)

by LostOpium



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 02:22:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10526865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostOpium/pseuds/LostOpium
Summary: Challenging mission for Miss Pauling today: meet the potential new recruit and convice them to become the new RED Pyro.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Here is a short intro to my OC Pyro, Luciano :D I know it may be not really interesting but… I wanted to do it and I kind of enjoyed telling that story to my friends soooo I thought I would share! Thank you soooo much to those who will read and pay attention even for a short time to my Luciano <3 Also, thank you Princess Doki Doki for the help again!!! You did an awesome work on this one >^< Sorry again for allthe mistakes and crappy sentences ;.;
> 
> Anyway, I hope you’ll enjoy!! <3

The corridor seemed endless, but perhaps that was in part due to the impressive physique of the two orderlies leading the way. Their broad shoulders and bulky torsos completely walled off anything in front of the petite woman following them. Blindly moving through this labyrinth of corridors, she raised her nose from her notes from time to time, and read the room numbers down to the right and left. How much farther would this take? 

Miss Pauling was not afraid. She was used to end up in dangerous or uncomfortable situations and had always been able to fend for herself. Blackmail, chloroform, poison, or, in the worst case, a bullet between the eyes, and the problem was resolved. This time, however, her mission seemed more delicate…

***

The Administrator’s hand wearily pointed to the file on the table.“This one will do the trick to fill the empty spot.”

“Yes, Ma'am,” said the secretary, leafing through the contents of the file.

“He seems indeed to have good knowledge and a mastery of his medium. About twenty fires including seven important to his credit and a rather satisfactory brutality … Anyway, you are already aware of his record.”

“Yes, Ma'am, um… It says he has been committed to a psychiatric hospital for the past five years?”

“Yes. Get him out of this hole and recruit him to RED.” The Administrator ordered with a wave of her hand that only meant one thing: this conversation was over. Miss Pauling was dismissed.

***

Miss Pauling was not afraid, but she was suspicious. Her handgun had been confiscated for security and if it came to a fight, she could not afford to defend herself in a such narrow space. The status of this place as a mental institution with strict protocol, rather than a business or military with cutthroat off-the-records dealings, did not grant her much to barter with. She could only rely on her persuasion and the two men who looked more like prison security guards than reasonable caretakers.

One of the muscular men turned to her before reminded her of some important rules about visiting patients. What not to do and the usual security jargon. Once confirmed that she understood, he then opened the door, labeled 193, on her left. The young woman entered, thanked her guides and closed the door behind her, leaving them in the corridor to stand by in case of any incidents. Although the management of the hospital described their patient as incapable of managing on their own, Miss Pauling insisted for the interview to be private. No need to kill anymore people involved with discovering the Administrator’s intentions than absolutely necessary.

There was nothing very engaging about the place. The space was restricted, entirely gray, poorly lit and too cool to be comfortable. The only furniture present was a small table, bolted to the concrete floor, between two chairs. The Administrator’s assistant walked steadily towards the table and sat in front of her target.

She looked at him for a moment and bit her lips at the sight of the burned hands in metal cuffs. They restricted him from standing via the chain being looped through a raised hole on the mostly flat surface. ‘At least he wont be a handful’, she thought. The patient seemed docile for the moment, almost like he was asleep. He was slumped in his chair and his head was lowered, exposing a wide scar on the top of his shaved head. The lady in purple cleared her throat, making sure that the room’s other occupant was not asleep. To her relief, the bowed head before her leaned softly to one side, as if to strain his ear and made a sign that he was listening. Miss Pauling then placed her file on the table and opened it.

“Hello. I am Miss Pauling and I am sent by my employer, who is in charge of TF Industries’ business dealings, to inform you that your profile has attracted our attention. We, therefor, are offering you a job at Reliable Excavation Demolition, or RED for short. This job would consist of…”

The potential recruit barely reacted to anything she was saying. The young woman checked a few of her notes and feared for a moment that he didn’t even understand her. She remembered having inscribed a few things concerning problems with his speech and comprehension. She also re-read in passing a small comment mentioning an affirmed child-like mindset from the patient. She realized her approach was likely not suitable to him. It was time to change tactics.

She slowly moved her fingers forward to gently touch the right hand of her interviewee.

“Luciano, isn’t it?” She asked softly.

The other seemed to frown. As the information in his records indicated, “Luciano” was one of the many names he had been given. It also happened to be the only name still found in the dusty archives of a small orphanage somewhere in the middle of Nowhere, Southern Europe. It was technically his actual name and he’d certainly not heard it for a long time. At the mention of his name, she had his attention.

“Do you understand me?”

“Few…” he mumbled, his voice a little hoarse and trembling. He looked very uncomfortable.

“Alright, then I'll start over,” she responded, speaking slower for him. “I am Miss Pauling and I work for TF Industries. It seems that you are very gifted with fire.” She felt the hand under her fingers jump at the word “fire”. The young woman assumed a more enthusiastic air.

“Over fiveteen fires, it’s amazing! You must really like fire, don’t you?”

Her potential recruit had finally raised his head, albeit slightly. His tired eyes widened, pupils abnormally dilating as he stared at her. She slipped a few pictures of his exploits that she’d gathered from newspaper archives. 

“These fires are gigantic, and you made them so quickly! We can see that you are a professional! And it says here that you made your own flamethrower, is that true?” she added while tapping the article that mentioned his abominable creation.

The pyromaniac clenched his fists and bit his lower lip as if he was holding himself back from something. He could not look away from the pictures. He looked like a child, unable to take his eyes off his favorite cartoon or a toy in a store window.

“If it is true what they said about you, Reliable Excavation Demolition, part of TF Industries, is currently looking for a Pyrotechnician…”

The patient finally raised his head completely, and Miss Pauling was able to fully inspect the pitiful state he was in: tanned skin that turned dim, gaunt cheeks, dark circles under his eyes… Depression had gnawed at him since his confinement. She could also read the confusion on his face half-eaten with old burns.

“I work with mercenaries. People like you but who live by their passion,” she explained with a smile to reassure him. “They are very passionate people with different specialties. You will be free to light many fires, all while under certain conditions and observation , of course! And we will be able to provide you with all the necessary tools for your incendiary desires such as… A flamethrower of even better quality for example? And that’s just for starters!”

The room’s other occupant was silently staring at her, stupefied. She waited with a smile, letting him process the information. It was impossible to tell if she’d convinced him or not, though she thought she’d given him some pretty good acting. As time went by, though, she was becoming less sure of her success.

“So… Do you want the job?”

The arsonist’s eyes filled with tears, and then, little by little, his smile spread and he let out a chuckle. He could hardly contain his emotions, but he managed to nod his head. Miss Pauling realized right then that she had just offered him wasn’t just a job, but the best gift of his life: fire and freedom!


End file.
